


Two Halves (of a whole idiot)

by AcesOfSpade



Series: Ace's Random One-Shot Collection [40]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Men Crying, Probably ooc, a lot of crying, emotional breakdowns, oh yeah i forgot, praise be cellphones with buttons, random spanish brought to you by the murdock twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 08:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18028385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcesOfSpade/pseuds/AcesOfSpade
Summary: Mike keeps his distance from Matt over the summer, but as the Murdock twins' birthday approaches, Mike resolves to fix things between him and his twin.Sequel toHe's Not You





	Two Halves (of a whole idiot)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over the course of 14 hours and a handful of minutes without stopping. I deleted and rewrote everything after the first scene _at least_ three times because I didn't like where I was going with it. 
> 
> The result? Nearly 6k words of two grown-ass men working through 14 years of repressed emotions with a whole lot of crying. Like, I think Matt's super OOC with how much crying he does, h o l y s h i t
> 
> Like two people asked for this sequel. Please enjoy this word vomit, from the bottom of my heart lol

Mike kept his distance from Matt over the summer, but he still kept an eye on him. It had been Elektra's idea for him to act the way he had, and Mike felt awful about it. He wished he could redo his reunion with Matt, or even go back and actually answer Matt when he'd reached out instead of doubting whether Matt actually wanted to see him or not.

 

As summer faded into fall, Mike decided he needed to try to fix what he'd broken with Matt. Knowing his brother probably hated him felt _wrong_ and _awful_ , but deep down he knew it wouldn't be easy to fix all of this.

 

For some reason, Mike thought the best day to approach Matt again was their birthday, the 14th of September. He even got Matt a combination birthday and apology gift, hoping it'd show Matt he was serious.

 

Unlike the last time, Mike didn't let himself into Matt's dorm. He knocked on the door instead, like a decent human would. He waited anxiously for someone to answer, hoping Matt was actually there.

 

After a couple agonizing minutes, the door cracked open enough for Mike to make out half of his brother's face, and he didn't look all too pleased to see Mike. Honestly, Mike didn't blame him.

 

"What do you want this time?" Matt grumbled. Mike figured Matt had smelled him coming or something, hence the tense greeting.

 

"It's your birthday. I brought you something," Mike told him, leaving himself out of the statement to prove he was here specifically for Matt.

 

"Give me one reason I should believe you," Matt said, and again, Mike didn't blame him. "The last time you showed up here unnanounced, the smell of tobacco took weeks to fade enough to not send me into coughing fits."

 

"I'm sorry about that," Mike mumbled sincerely. "I also came to apologize for being such an asshole."

 

Matt sighed heavily, stepping back and opening the door wider. "Don't make me regret hearing you out," he warned as Mike stepped into the dorm. Matt went to sit on the edge of his bed, Mike spotting a desk chair he could sit on.

 

"First off, this is for you," Mike stated as he pressed something into Matt's hands. He let Matt have a few minutes to investigate the crudely wrapped item.

 

"What is it?" Matt asked, not able to tell based on the shape and texture.

 

"It's a sweater I found at a thrift store in Queens," Mike said.

 

"What does it look like?" Matt asked, getting a proper feel for the material. It was soft, but Matt could tell it would be warm.

 

"It's a red hoodie with one of those big pockets on the front," Mike explained. "I think I remember you mentioning that your favourite colour was red before..." he trailed off, though Matt knew exactly what he was talking about.

 

"It was, yeah," Matt nodded, hit with a wave of nostalgia. He also felt a 'pang' in his chest at the fact that Mike actually remembered that far back. "Especially the shade of Dad's old boxing gloves."

 

"It's not quite that colour, but it's close-ish," Mike commented.

 

The twins fell silent for a few minutes. It wasn't a tense silence, but it wasn't entirely comfortable either. Mike was the one to break the silence, looking down at his feet.

 

"I've seriously regretted not answering you almost every day since you first tried getting ahold of me," he admitted honestly.

 

"Why didn't you?" Matt asked, a hurt tone creeping into his voice that Mike didn't like, the fact that it was his fault making it worse. "And if you regretted not answering me, why didn't you try?"

 

"I was in a bad place at the time. I didn't think you'd want anything to do with me if you saw the lifestyle I was living," Mike said. "As for not trying to reach you, I felt like a complete tool for ignoring you, and I convinced myself you'd reject me because I did."

 

If Mike hadn't been looking at his feet, he would've seen the change in emotions on Matt's face. His apprehension became a mix of understanding and sadness, a striking contrast to his usual brooding.

 

"I spent years thinking _you_ wanted nothing to do with _me_ ," Matt muttered. "I thought you hated me or something."

 

"Mattycake, we're literally two halves of a whole idiot," Mike remarked dryly in some sort of twisted amusement.

 

"We're Murdocks," Matt pointed out. "It's what we do."

 

Once again, the twins fell silent, each new silence slowly edging away from tense.

 

"Why the change of heart?" Matt asked. "You weren't the best brother last time we saw each other."

 

Mike finally looked up from the floor, if only to run both of his hands down his face. Matt deserved the whole truth, but Mike wasn't sure he was ready to hear it.

 

"Trust me, I know," Mike mumbled, hanging his head and shaking it slowly. "Someone came to me during a rough time, asked for my help with something, and suggested the best way to accomplish the task was by acting like the most unlikable jerk I could muster," he said, watching as Matt's face showed his path to realization. "I accepted the offer because it meant seeing you again," he mumbled quietly.

 

"You were trying to get Foggy and I together," Matt realized. It wasn't a question. Why else would Mike have to be an ass to Matt? "Who would be invested enough to track you down for help?"

 

"Someone who thinks you deserve something good in your life," Mike told him. He'd been sworn to not tell Matt it was Elektra behind his sudden appearance, if Matt were to ever find out.

 

Another brief silence hung over the twins, neither knowing what to say yet having so many things to say. It was during this silence that Foggy returned to the dorm with a little store-bought cake and a bottle of booze. His eyes fell on Mike and he scowled slightly, finding a surface to put everything on before going to stand in front of Mike with his arms crossed. He probably meant for the stance to be intimidating, but Foggy wasn't intimidating in the slightest. At least, to Mike. He'd met worse. Way worse.

 

"Why?" was all he said, the single syllable nearly managing to make Mike flinch with how much weight it carried.

 

"I brought Matt a birthday present, stuck around to describe it to him. I was just about to go," Mike told him, not technically lying. He just left out the rest of the talking the twins did after the hoodie was squared away.

 

Mike got up from the chair he'd borrowed, putting it back where found it before making his way to the door. With one hand on the knob, he turned his head back towards Matt.

 

"Happy birthday, Mattycakes," he muttered, knowing Matt would hear him.

 

"Happy birthday, Mikerophone," Matt responded almost as quietly, and Mike didn't know if he was actually meant to hear it. Regardless, hearing Matt call him that gave him a tiny sliver of hope that he might get his brother back.

* * *

Once Foggy was pretty sure Mike was out of earshot (he wasn't, but Matt wasn't going to mention it), he sat on the end of Matt's bed next to him, pressing their legs together.

 

"What did he give you?" Foggy asked skeptically. "Is it dangerous?"

 

"A sweater," Matt said, holding up said item to show Foggy. It had been sitting in his lap the entire time he and Mike were talking, which had provided an odd sort of comfort Matt hadn't felt in such a long time. "He said it's red," he added, not noticing how content and fond he sounded in that moment.

 

"Very red," Foggy confirmed, noticing something peeking out of the front pocket. "Hey, there's something in the pocket," he told Matt, slipping what turned out to be a piece of folded paper. Foggy unfolded the paper, only to be met by a series of raised dots. "It's a note."

 

"What does it say?" Matt asked curiously, tilting his head like a puppy.

 

"No idea. It's in Braille," Foggy said, putting the paper in Matt's hand.

 

Matt spread the note out on his leg so he could run his fingers over the message, brows creased in concentration. The note made a smile tug at Matt's lips, though it didn't spread farther than there. The note contained (pressumably) Mike's cell number, the address of an apartment nearby, and an actual message that read 'I'm so sorry for being such an ass. It feels so wrong and awful. I'll make it up to you, I promise'.

 

"What's it say?" Foggy asked, trying to guess what it could possibly say.

 

"Just happy birthday," Matt ended up lying. He wasn't entirely sure what made him lie, but something inside him decided it would be a bad idea to tell Foggy what the note actually said.

 

Foggy seemed content with that answer, getting up to grab the cake and booze he'd set down. Matt took the opportunity to slip Mike's note somewhere safe, wanting to keep it.

* * *

Matt was torn. On one hand, he finally reunited with his brother. On the other hand, he didn't know if he could really trust him. He _wanted_ to, wanted to believe everything he was saying. As much as he had grown to resent Mike during their time apart, there was always that underlying yearning to even just talk to his brother again, to get back the only family Matt had left.

 

His personal feelings aside, there was also the fact that Foggy couldn't stand Mike. If he looked at the situation objectively, he couldn't blame Foggy for hating him. He treated both of them like shit, condemned Matt to weeks of constant allergic reactions in his own dorm, the list could go on. Foggy had every right to hate Mike, putting Matt in a position where he may have to choose between which of the two he kept in his life, and that was terrifying to think about.

 

It had only been a day since Mike showed up again, and Matt was already freaking out inside.

* * *

Honestly, Mike wasn't faring much better than Matt. He couldn't stop worrying that Matt would tell him to get lost for good. With how worn-down the last 14 years had made him, Mike was pretty sure that Matt not wanting him around would be the thing that broke him.

 

Oh _God_ , he was going to have to tell Matt what happened after they were split up, which wasn't something Mike spent much time thinking about because a lot of it was painful.

 

It had only been a day since their birthday, and Mike was already on the verge of a breakdown. This wasn't going to be easy.

* * *

After almost 48 hours of debate, Matt decided to call the number Mike had left on the note, just to make sure it wasn't a fake or something. He waited for Foggy to leave before he did it, because he had a feeling it was going to be tense.

 

For all the slack he got from Foggy over it, Matt was glad he still had a cellphone with an actual keypad. He could feel where each individual number was, unlike on a touchscreen phone like Foggy had, making it a lot easier to dial phone numbers.

 

After punching in the number Mike had given him, Matt brought the phone close-ish to his ear, listening to it ring. The longer it rang, the more Matt feared he'd been given a fake number. \

 

However, just as Matt was about the hang up in defeat, someone answered the call.

 

"Hello?"

 

The voice sounded like Mike, but he couldn't be sure just yet. He needed more data before he came to a conclusion.

 

"Uh, hi," was Matt's brilliant response. "I didn't think anyone was going to answer..." he admitted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

"Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't hear the phone ringing in my bag," the person on the other end apologized sheepishly.

 

"I feel like a complete idiot for having to ask such a stupid question, but this _is_ Mike Murdock's number, yeah?" Matt asked nervously.

 

There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a soft sigh. "I thought my paranoia was bad," the person muttered, probably meant not to be heard. "Of course it's me, Matt. I was worried you either hadn't found that note or decided not to call me."

 

"Foggy noticed it," Matt told him. "I spent the last two days trying to convince myself you wouldn't give your own twin a fake number, so there's that."

 

"You're right, I wouldn't," Mike confirmed seriously. "That'd probably end badly for me if I did," he reasoned

 

"Most likely," Matt confirmed quietly.

 

A few seconds passed where neither twin spoke, until Mike let out a sudden curse word or two.

 

"I'm so sorry Matt, but I have to go. I completely forgot my physio appointment," Mike apologized, sounding like he was rifling around for something in a hurry.

 

"I understand," Matt assured him.

 

With no parting remark from either side, the twins hung up the phone at the same time.

 

Matt flopped backwards onto his bed, letting out a frustrated noise.

 

Mike had shoved his feet into a pair of shoes as he scrambled to find his keys and put on a jacket at the same time. His appointment was in 15 minutes, in Midtown, and his physiotherapist didn't tolerate late arrivals. He was going to be cutting it really close, the dull stabs of pain radiating from his left shoulder reminding him how much he needed this physio in the first place.

* * *

 

Matt wasn't sure what on Earth possessed him to do it, but he ended up looking Mike up online, see if he could find any clues as to what had happened to him. He had his headphones plugged in to his text-to-speech translator, settled against the wall at the head of his bed.

 

Most of what Matt found at first were social media profiles for other people with the name Mike Murdock or Michael Murdock, which he saw as a good thing, because it meant he hadn't come up in a news article or something.

 

After fifteen minutes of surfing, Matt finally found a reference to his brother in a newspaper article from eight years ago in Brooklyn, meaning he was about 15 at the time. As Matt's machine read him the article, a pit settled in Matt's stomach that kept getting bigger with every new detail the article shared about why Mike was being talked about.

 

Apparently, one of the older orphans Mike lived with found out he was pansexual, and as one would expect from a Catholic orphan, decided the best way to 'fix' Mike was to beat it out of him. There were also knives involved, according to the article. Matt had to pause the device, not able to listen to any more of the article. He set his laptop aside so he could pull his knees up to his chest and hug them.

 

The article had spawned so many 'what if' scenarios in Matt's head that it was overwhelming, though one thought fought its way to the forefront of Matt's mind to make itself known and drown out all the negative thoughts swarming Matt's mind:

 

_He seems comfortable with his sexuality at least_

 

It was a simple thought, but one that soothed Matt's fears just a little bit. He didn't let the incident change who he fundamentally was. He'd been in the hospital for _two weeks_ due to the injuries he suffered, yet he didn't let it scare him back into the closet.

 

Matt stopped searching the internet for his brother after that, too shaken up to risk finding more upsetting information. Foggy found him passed out with a pillow clutched to his chest and unshed tears in his eyes when he got back from studying with a few of their classmates. The sight made him frown and sit on the edge of the bed next to Matt, lightly shaking him awake by the shoulder.

 

"Did I fall asleep?" he muttered, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, pulling himself into a sitting position. He was still fully dressed, Foggy noticed, with his shoes still on and everything. What the hell happened?

 

"I guess so," Foggy nodded. "I found you passed out when I got back."

 

"Oh," Matt muttered, acutely aware that he could feel something wet near his eyes. Had he cried himself to sleep? He didn't remember falling asleep in the first place, so he couldn't be entirely sure.

 

"Are you okay, Matty?" Foggy asked seriously. "You passed out in the middle of the day with your shoes on while suffocating an innocent pillow, and it looks like you were crying too," he observed, cupping Matt's jaw in one hand so he could use his thumb to wipe away some of the tears and tearstains from his cheeks.

 

"I don't remember falling asleep or actually crying, but I do remember getting really upset over something I found online," Matt admitted.

 

"What did you find that managed to bring the stone-faced Matthew Murdock to tears?" Foggy asked, trying to lighten the mood with a shitty joke. Matt looked like hell, he'd been upset, so Foggy wanted to cheer him up.

 

"An news article from eight years ago," Matt answered slowly, trying not to get upset again while he told Foggy about the article. "I-It was about my brother," he said softly, hanging his head so Foggy wouldn't see his eyes already starting to water again.

 

"What did he do?" Foggy asked, assuming the article had been about something bad Mike had done. He just seemed like the type.

 

" _He_ didn't do anything," Matt said defensively. "It was about something that happened _to_ him," he explained with a shaking voice. "One of the other kids at the orphanage he was sent to in Brooklyn put him in the hospital for two weeks. According to the article, the other kid nearly pierced his lung with a cracked rib, and that it's a miracle he survived."

 

"Matty," Foggy sighed softly, pulling Mat into his lap and wrapping him in a comforting hug. Matt didn't protest the hug like he usually did, instead burying his face in Foggy's shoulder.

 

"I could've lost him without ever knowing it," Matt mumbled into Foggy's shirt. Foggy gently ran a hand along Matt's spine to soothe him, his other hand cradling the back of Matt's head.

 

"Hey, don't think about what might have happened," Foggy said, in the way people do when they're trying to calm someone down. "He's _alive_ , he's still here."

 

As much as Foggy disliked Mike, he couldn't deny that he meant a lot to Matt. More than a lot, if he were being honest with himself. Matt had worried himself to the edge of hysterics at the _possibility_ that Mike could've died back then, despite knowing he was most certainly alive. Foggy had a gut feeling this wasn't going to be the last time Matt did it either.

 

Foggy almost kinda hated Mike more for making Matt worry so much. It was awful, he knew that, but he couldn't help it.

* * *

 

As Mike was getting into his truck after his physio session, he got a text from a number he didn't have in his contacts. Frowning, he checked the text before starting the truck, which honestly was a great choice, because there was no way Mike wouldn't hit something if he read it while driving, that's for sure.

 

_It's Foggy, I found your number in Matt's phone. As much as I don't want to admit it, I need your help. Something's wrong with Matt, and I don't know what to do_

 

Oh God, that was a text Mike had hoped he'd never receive. The words 'I need your help' and 'something's wrong with Matt' wouldn't leave his mind as he started his truck and pulled out of the parking lot before really toeing the line of speed enforcement out of fear. He made it to Columbia in about a third of the time it should've taken him, then proceeded to bolt to Matt and Foggy's door in an impressively short amount of time.

 

The door felt like concrete under Mike's knuckles as he knocked, making him freak out a little more. Thankfully, it didn't take long for Foggy to let him in, because waiting would've been torture.

 

Taking one step into the dorm, Mike's heart shattered at the sound of Matt whimpering in a painfully familiar way, causing him to freeze mid-step.

 

"Where is he?" Mike asked urgently, nerves on fire. The last time Matt was like this... He didn't want to think about it.

 

"He shut himself in the closet," Foggy told him, pointing out the spot in question. Mike just whipped around and went straight for the closet, knocking softly on the door to hopefully get Matt's attention.

 

"Matt, you in there?" he asked just as softly, sliding down the wall next to the door until he was sitting on the floor.

 

"What's wrong, _mi hermano_? Foggy told me you shut yourself in there," he asked, defaulting back to his old habit of randomly switching to Spanish when speaking English.

 

Instead of saying anything, Matt just opened the closet door, silently inviting Mike in. Out of habit, Mike shut the door behind him, even though the only other person around was Foggy.

 

"Can you tell me what happened, please?" Mike requested as calmly as he could, trying not to freak Matt out any more than he was by showing that he too was freaking out.

 

"I found an article online from when we were 15," Matt began, his voice tiny and distant, and Mike was hit with a sliver of a memory from the first time this had happened to Matt. "It was about you ending up in the hospital for two weeks," he went on, not able to bring himself to mention the 'why' part. Judging by the sharp inhale he took, Mike still knew exactly what he was referring to. "It said you were lucky to survive, and I just... broke," Matt admitted, resting his forehead on his propped up knees. "If you hadn't pulled through, I wouldn't have known what happened to you."

 

"Matt..." Mike trailed off, his heart actually causing him pain from inside his chest. "I'm coming closer to you, and I'm going to hug you, okay? Don't freak out," he warned his brother before doing just that. He may've been hugging Matt a little too tightly, but Matt wasn't objecting, so he just held Matt close. "I'm right here, Matt, I'm okay. Please don't burn yourself out wondering how things could've been different again," Mike all but pleaded, flattening his legs on the ground in front of him so Matt could curl up against his chest like he did last time and listen to his heartbeat. The reasoning behind it escaped him at the moment, he just knew the heartbeat of a loved one was probably the most effective way to calm Matt down.

 

"I can't help it, _hermano_ ," Matt mumbled into the collar of Mike's t-shirt, also lapsing into Spanish without thinking. "It's second-nature, almost like breathing. I can't _not_ fixate on the worst possible outcomes something could've had. I can usually ignore it, but the article caught me off guard and it just all hit me like a punch to the gut."

 

_Or fixating on what could've changed the outcome so it didn't happen_ Mike added mentally.

 

"How'd you find the article in the first place?" Mike asked carefully, not sure what Matt could've been doing that led him there. The question made Matt hesitate, then he just deflated like someone stuck a needle in a balloon.

 

"Matt?" Mike frowned.

 

"Please don't hate me," Matt muttered, having absently wrapped his hand in the hem of Mike's shirt.

 

"Why would I hate you?" Mike frowned, his hold on Matt loosening slightly with his confusion.

 

"I was searching the Internet for stuff about you," Matt said. "I told myself it was to make sure you were safe, but I just wanted to know what you went through without forcing you to relive any potentially painful memories, so I could understand you better," he explained quietly. "I don't know who you are anymore, and it feels like I'm half of a person and you're basically a stranger." Matt's fist tightened around Mike's t-shirt hem, Mike feeling a few tears soak through his shirt and onto his shoulder.

 

Mike tucked Matt's head under his chin, trying to dry his tears with the rat's nest Matt called hair.

 

"I know what you mean," Mike mumbled. "I should be able to look at you and see my idiot brother, not a stranger who happens to have my face. Treating you like shit the way I did felt absolutely and utterly wrong, and it probably made me even more of a stranger to you."

 

"We both went through Hell when we didn't have each other," Matt observed thoughtfully, "and it made us completely different people as a result, made us strangers to the person who should know us better than anyone else."

 

"Then we both moved on, trying to convince ourselves we could survive as a half," Mike nodded slowly. "I failed on a spectacular level when I was on my own. I did a _lot_ of illegal substances, drank more alcohol than the entire patronage of an RPG tavern regularly, just to make the numbness go away. That moment of weakness I mentioned? It was withdrawl. I'd gone three days without a hit, so when Elektra asked me to help her help you, I said yes, because I was in the worst part of the withdrawl and when she said your name, I finally realized just how badly I need you and if helping you finally have something good in your life by being an asshole was what it took to be near you again, I'd play along."

 

By the time Mike finished rambling, he was crying. He could feel Matt's tears through his shirt too, so at least he wasn't the only one crying. He was also so caught up in his emotions that he hadn't realized he'd said Elektra's name.

 

"I punched a lot of things to distract myself," Matt admitted, pulling his face away from Mike's shoulder and wiping his eyes on his sleeves (only then did Mike notice Matt was wearing the sweater he got him).

 

"Walls, boxes, tables, training dummies, _people_. You name it, I probably punched it at least once. Getting punched back sometimes helped better, so I got in a lot of fights. Broke a lot of bones, dislocated a lot of joints I didn't even know could _be_ dislocated, and I sought that out, because the pain made the numbness go away for a while. At one point, I wanted to fix the dumpster fire I called my life, so I applied for law school. I wanted to see if legal battles worked as well as physical ones, but then I met Foggy and suddenly I had more reason to punch things, because it took my mind off the fact that I was going through a sexuality crisis in my early 20s when most people did in their teens. I basically spent my entire first year here in denial, between needing you and my sexuality and how terrifyingly fast I'd fallen in love with Foggy. It was terrible," he rambled, his breathing slowly evening out as he let out everything he'd kept built up for so long.

 

Now that it was out, Matt felt strangely peaceful. It was... nice, really nice.

* * *

 

Partly out of concern for Matt's sanity and partly to keep tabs on Mike, Foggy sat in the same spot next to the closet door that Mike had been sitting before he joined Matt in the closet.

 

The more Foggy listened, the more he started to understand and the less he started to hate Mike. He'd been put in a meat grinder way too many times, been through so much shit. Foggy actually felt the urge to hug Mike when he finally left the closet.

 

Listening to the twins talking about being two halves of a whole, Foggy couldn't help but wish he had a sibling close enough to his age to form that kind of bond. It wouldn't be the same as what the twins shared, but it'd be a lot better than a sister that was seven years older than him and a brother that was six years younger.

* * *

The twins spent another five or ten minutes just sitting in the closet, not talking but still subtly reminding each other that they were actually there.

 

"Feeling better?" Mike asked Matt once he felt like he wouldn't burst into tears if he tried talking.

 

"Yeah," Matt nodded. "At least this time there were no knives," he mumbled, not meaning to say it out loud. The last time Matt broke down like this had gone a whole lot differently, and neither twin liked to think about it.

 

"Thank God for that," Mike mumbled in agreement. "There is, however, someone sitting by the door wanting to make sure you're okay," he pointed out idly.

 

"Oh fuck, I forgot Foggy was still here," Matt groaned into his hands, feeling like a shitty boyfriend for forgetting something like that.

 

Pulling himself up to his feet, Matt streched out his legs before finally leaving the closet. He could hear Foggy's heart beating near the door, sitting beside him and leaning against his side.

 

"I'm sorry I refused to talk to you and locked myself in the closet," Matt muttered regretfully. "I haven't been myself since Mike showed up at our door with a birthday present. I should've talked to you, told you what was going on. I feel like the world's worst boyfriend."

 

When Matt leaned against Foggy's side, his immediate response was to wrap an arm around Matt's shoulders comfortingly, followed by tracing nonsense on Matt's arms with his index finger.

 

When Matt seemed to be finished talking, Foggy made an attempt to put his current thoughts into words, hoping his intention was understandable.

 

"Never, ever think you have to apologize for having emotions, Matty," Foggy told him seriously. "Yeah, it kinda sucks being shut out by someone you love that's struggling, but I realize now that I probably wouldn't have been much help anyway. The worst breakdown I've helped someone recover from was my Mom bursting into blubbery tears at Candace's wedding. I probably would've made things worse, honestly. I could tell you needed your brother, so I kinda went through your phone to see if you had his number so I could text him," he admitted. "What matters is that you're okay."

 

"Wow, that was sappy as fuck," Mike snorted softly from where he was leaning against the closet doorframe.

 

"Way to ruin the moment, asshole," Matt called over, but he was grinning and laughing while he did.

 

"What can I say? Third-wheeling sucks _ass_. What doesn’t suck ass is pizza, so I’m ordering some food," Mike rolled his eyes.

 

Foggy realized that as much as he tried to, he'd never fully understand the Murdock twins. They went from spilling their hearts in a closet to calling each other names so easily, even though they'd been apart for almost a decade and a half.

**Author's Note:**

> realtalk I've become obsessed with the concept of the Murdock twins, so I might end up with a series of random one-shots involving Matt and Mike...... rip me
> 
> also random fun fact about my thought process: originally I just pictured Mike as a ginger Charlie Cox, but for _some fucking reason_ I kept picturing his as Claude Giroux, the captain of the fucking Philadelphia Flyers. This is weird for two reasons: Matt and Mike are entirely identical, and _I'm a Toronto Maple Leafs fan_


End file.
